


Coffee shop Tabletops

by snowpuffle



Series: Mild Vandalism Is Sometimes Acceptable [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Artist Gerard Way, Fluff, Gerard's POV, M/M, Starbucks, Tattoo Artist Frank Iero, gee loves coffee, slight vandalism i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 16:32:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowpuffle/pseuds/snowpuffle
Summary: It wasn’t until Gerard had nearly knocked his coffee off of the edge of the table that he noticed something new on the tabletop.The note he had left on the table had been erased and replaced with a scraggly ‘Hi’, and an evil-looking smiley face with devil horns was drawn next to it.-Gerard doodles on a table, Frank doodles back, they text through a table basically





	Coffee shop Tabletops

**Author's Note:**

> i just thought this would be cute - people put graffiti everywhere, may as well be used to form a relationship, right?

Gerard sat in the cramped corner seat of his local Starbucks, scribbling away in his notebook. He looked comically out of place, his legs on the seat tucked up into his chest, his large frame overshadowing the tiny table. He had been there for so long that he had grown tired of sweeping his hair out of his eyes, so instead his eyebrows were scrunched as he tried to peek through the black curtain of his fringe. His now cold coffee sat forgotten on the edge of the table, and Gerard's laptop was being used as a paperweight for his loose drawings.

 

The frequency of Gerard's drawing sessions varied, but his visiting schedule didn't. Every Tuesday morning before work, he would curl himself up in _his_ corner, order his usual, and tune out the early morning traffic on the nearby street with his headphones. He had been following his routine for so long that sometimes the staff would have his coffee ready for him when he arrived at 8.15 a.m. sharp.

 

His salary didn’t exactly welcome unnecessary expenses, but unfortunately for Gerard, he believed that Starbucks _was_ necessary. That’s why he only allowed himself to buy one (small) coffee from them on Tuesdays.

 

As he continued to concentrate on his piece, the lead of his pencil snapped.

 

“Fuck.” He grumbled. _That piece of shit pencil was expensive._ He didn’t have a sharpener on him, so he dug around in his jacket pocket for his spare and saw that the end was too sharp for him to use to shade. Gerard leaned forward and scratched the pencil on the table. He certainly didn’t endorse vandalism, but hey, desperate times. He ended up scrawling a smiley face with a tiny ‘Hello!’ next to the grey smudge he’d made.

 

His watch beeped (gifted to him by his brother, Mikey, who’d said he was tired of Gerard asking for the time every 10 seconds) signalling that it was time for Gerard to leave if he wanted to check in to work on time. After sweeping all of his papers into his black satchel and tucking his laptop under his arm, he nodded a thank you to the barista as he headed out the door.

  


-

  


On Tuesday morning the next week, Gerard shuffled into Starbucks with a pile of papers. He’d been given some concepts to sketch weeks before, but had completely forgotten about them until he received a text from his manager asking him to have them ready by the upcoming Friday. He slumped in his seat and began working.

 

It wasn’t until Gerard had nearly knocked his coffee off of the edge of the table that he noticed something new on the tabletop. The note he had left on the table had been erased and replaced with a scraggly ‘Hi’, and an evil-looking smiley face with devil horns was drawn next to it.

 

The corner of Gerard’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. “Huh.”

 

 _What kind of dimwit talks to a table?_ He thought as he erased the message. As he chewed on the end of his pencil, he tried to think of what he could leave as a reply. Gerard settled with a tiny doodle of Batman, holding an even tinier coffee. In a speech bubble, he wrote ‘What’s your name?’, even though he didn’t expect an answer.

  


-

  


By the time Gerard had come in the next week, he had completely forgotten about the table conversation, so he was surprised to find a reply. Next to a sketch of a zombie (head severed, which Gerard thought was a nice addition) read the words, ‘Frank. You?’.

 

It took awhile for his brain to process the information given. _Talking to a dude named Frank. Through a table. Neat._

 

Gerard took a sip of his coffee and ran a hand through his greasy hair, trying to think. In all honesty, this was probably the most social interaction he’d had in a while, and it wasn’t even face to face. Besides discussing work with his colleagues (and painful small talk with Gabe, the only other guy in the office who used the courtyard so he could smoke), he hadn’t even spoken to someone _online_.

 

He picked up his pencil and began working on his next message. It took him longer than it should have, because he spent ages trying to choose an outfit for the figure he’d drawn, but he was satisfied with the result. There was now a brooding vampire talking to the zombie - he didn’t want to erase it because he liked it so much - saying, ‘I’m Gerard. Sick Zombie. Artist?’

 

He hoped that it would make enough sense, because the speech bubble was so small that he couldn’t fit a complete sentence. Finishing up just as his watch beeped, he wondered what Frank’s reply would be. What if he was talking to a serial killer? Or some kid? Or some old dude? The possibilities Gerard conjured were endless.

  


-

  


Overtime, Gerard learned a lot of different things about Frank, and vice versa. He could admit that he sounded like his dream guy, but it was impossible to tell. _What if he’s lying? People make up stuff on the internet all the time._ Despite Gerard’s curiosity, he couldn’t gather up the courage to ask Frank more personal questions. He knew that he was a tattoo artist, and that they both liked the same music. He knew what he ordered on cold days and on warmer days, how much he liked comics (Gerard assumed at least, with the all caps reply of ‘DUDE THAT’S SO COOL’ he received when he told him he was a comic book artist), and that he had a cute little dog named Sweet Pea, which he had drawn.

 

Even though they couldn’t even be considered ‘friends’, Gerard wished he knew more about Frank. He wished he could _meet_ him, but he didn’t want to seem like a creep and end up scaring him away. Gerard wouldn’t risk it. After a few weeks, he’d noticed that he was more excited to find a new note on the tabletop than he was to get his weekly Starbucks fix.

  


-

  


Gerard had spent at least 70% of his time at Starbucks doodling on the table instead of working, drawing, or _actually drinking coffee._ By the 3 month mark, he was pissed. Mainly at himself, for not having the balls to ask Frank for his number or _something,_ but at Frank, too. _This is a huge waste of time. Why would he keep talking to a stranger?_ It was getting ridiculous. That’s why Gerard almost dropped his coffee over his lap when he saw Frank’s message.

 

‘When do you come in?,’ it wrote. ‘We should meet.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> there will probably be a part 2 but i am lazy so don't wait on it


End file.
